Vou, LL. No. &] AUGUST, 1894. (PRICE ONE PENNY.
WAN eS UI Te She
\ \ \\ \ Ws. NK VaR 4 x
gis
- gn / *
), EN
a te ee
‘CONTENTS
Between Ourselves.
The Duties of the Present Hour
By ERRICO MALATESTA.
God and The State.
By MICHAEL BAKUNIN.
The Balance of Power.
By HENRY SEYMOUR.
Proudhon and Communism.
My Uncle Benjamin.
By Craupe Tivuier.
The Voice of Toil.
By Witvtiam Morris.
Ua itt TORS 8S
i é Te |
Cat -A-JOVRNAL- OF: |
A il
x a as ct ei ig eg tc ge tem cE
~S
ee oe
ST: se
= = eae ce | ||
—— ee ———- a ee — iE.
SSS
WILLIAM REEVES. 185, FLEET STREET, EC.
Pe TAT UARMAGAULE HORE. 7, PRABIX ROAD, HAM
GOD AND THE STATE.
Preo<
EXTRACTS FROM UNEDITED MANUSCRIPTS OF
MICHAEL BAKUNIN.
(TRANSLATED FOR “LIBERTY BY “NY )
(Continued from No. 7 J
Revolt against the State is much easier because there 18 something
in the very nature of the State which provokes revolt. The State is
authority, force ; ostentatious and infatuated force. The State does
not ingratiate--does not try to convert ; or, whenever it attempts to
do so, does it with the worst possible grace ; for it 1s not its nature to
persuade, but to impose itself on men, and coerce them. However it
may try to disguise its own character as the legal violater of human
will, and the permanent negation of human freedom, yet even when
commanding what is good it spoils it, precisely because commanding it.
For every command provokes and incites to legitimate revolt for free-
dom; besides which, the moment it is commanded, good becomes evil
from the standpoint of true morality—that is, of the morality which
is not divine, but is based upon respect for human nature and its
freedom. Freedom, morality, and the digmty of man consist pre-
cisely in this, that a man acts rightly, not because he is ordered to do
so, but because he understands, wills, and prefers right conduct.
Society, on the other hand, does not impose itself formally, officially,
authoritatively ; but naturally. And for this very reason its influence
on the individual is incomparably stronger than that of the State. It
creates and forms all individuals born and developed in its bosom. It
inoculates them slowly, from the day of their birth to their death,
with its own physical, intellectual, and moral character. It becomes, so
to speak, individualised in each of them.
The human individual is no universal and abstract being. On the
contrary, from the moment he begins to develop in his mother’s womb,
he is already determined and particularised by countless causes and
influences, physica', geographical, climatic, ethnographical, hygienic,
and consequently also economic influences, which together constitute
the character peculiar to his family, class, nation, and race. And since
the inclinations and faculties of men depend ou the sum of all these
exterior or physical influences, it follows that everybody is born witha
materially determined individual character. Owing, moreover, to the
relatively superior organization of the human brain, every man when
he is born is possessed in varying degrees—not, of innate ideas and
sentiments as the idealists pretend; but of the material and formal
ability to feel, to think, to speak, and to will. He possesses merely
the faculty for forming and developing ideas, without any actual con-
tent whatever. What first gives him this content? Scciety.
We need not here examine how the first nofions and ideas in primi.
tive society were formed ; for the most part they were naturally very
absurd. All that we can say with fall certainty is that they were not
at first severally and spontaneously created by the miraculously
illuminated spirit of inspired individuals, but. by the collective and
generally imperceptible work of the spirit of all individuals who formed
part of these socteties ; of which spirit the remarkable individuals— the
men of genius—could never do more than give the fittest and most
forcible expression. Men of genius have ever, like Voltaire, * picked
up their good things wherever they found them.” Thus the collective
intellectual labour of primitive societies created the first ideas. ‘These
ideas were at the outset nothing but simple, and obviously very tm.
perfect statements of natural and social facts, together with still less
accurate conclusions drawn from these facts. This was the begining
of all human perceptions, imaginations, and thoughts. The content of
these thoughts, far from having been created by a spontaneous act of
the human spirit, was first given by the real world, external to man,
as well as the world within him. The spuit of man— that is, the
organic and entirely material activity and the way in which he per
forms the function of his brain, as bronght about by the external and
internal impressions transmitted to it through the nerves -ouly adds
the formal work of comparing and combining these ipressions of
things into systems, which may be might or wrong. Ta this way ideas
first origimated. By the use of Janguace these first ideas, or rather
suppositions, were determined and fixed, through beimey transnatted
from one human being to another ; thas the individual suppositions of
each person were met, controlled, moditied, and completed by those of
other Persons ,
they ended by forming the common cousciousness, the collective
thought of society. These thoughts, transmitted by tradition from
veneration to generation, and always more or less developed hy the
mtellectual labor of centuries, constitute the intellectual and moral
patrimony of a society, a class, a nation
Bach new veneration finds from the cradle a whole world of ideas,
suppositions, and sentiments whieh at decepts as the heritage of past
centuries,
under its ideal aspect as a system of netious and ideas,
@ doctrine: a child would not be able to apprehend and understand at
under this form; but itis imposed asa world of facts cmbodied and
realised ta all persons and thites arotid too and whieh he sees from
the first day of his lite.
thang but the produets of realities, natural and socal, an the sense of
and bemy more or less consolidated into one system
This world of ideas is not presented to the new-born infant
asa religion,
Por hamiein ideas, having beer erieinally me-
bem the retlex or echo of sneh realities tn the human lram, tovether
with ther ideal and more or less diserimiminate reproduetion by this
tbsolutely materi orean of Taman thoucht, these ideas and netions,
(August, T89d.
ee
having become well established inthe way described in the colle
conscience of society, later acquire in their turn the power to
causes, producing new facts, not merely natural bot social
by slowly modifying and transforming the existenc e, adie
tutions, in short all the social relations of men; and being
in the most usual matters of everyday life, they become perceptible
palpable, for everybody, even for children. In this way each new gen,
eration is penetrated by them from infaney ; and having grown hoa
ave When the proper work of its own thought begins, accompanied of
course by the application of fresh criticism, it finds within. itself rui
in surrounding society, a whole world of established ideas and
notions which are its starting point, furmishing in some way the raw
material for its own intellectual and moral work. To this world “Gt
ideas belong those traditional and general forms of thought which
metaphysicians, deceived by the insensible and imperceptible way in
which they enter and are impressed on the brains of children from
without, even before self-consciousness —beyins,— erroneously cal]
“annate ideas.”
Of this kind are the general abstract ideas of deity and the soul:
ideas in themselves altogether absurd, but which inevitably and deter.
minately arose during the historic development of the human mind
The human spirit, arriving only slowly and after the lapse of many cen.
turies at a rational and critical understanding of itself and its own
proper manifestations, always starts from the absurd to arrive at the
truth, and from slavery to conquer freedom, These ideas (of deity
and the soul) have been sanctioned by universal ignorance, and by
the stupidity of ages, as well as by the well considered interests cf
tho privileged classes, to such a degree that even to-day it is impos.
sible to speak in open and popular language against them without
wlienating a considerable part of the people, and risking being stoned
by bourgeois hypocrisy.
Besides these quite abstract ideas, and always in close connection
with them, the adult meets in society, and also within himself, and
owing to the all-powerful influence of society on his own childbood, a
number of otber notions and ideas of afar more determined kind, touch-
ing more closely on real life and his own daily experience. Such notions
are those on nature and man, on justice, the duties and rights: of
individuals and classes, on social conventions, on the family, property,
and the State, besides many other notions on the relations existing
between meu. All these ideas which a child finds embodied in things
and in men and which are impressed cn its own mind by education
and instruction before he bas even arrived at self-consciousness,
all these ideas he will find later on in Jife consecrated, explained,
commented upon by those theories which express the universal con-
science or the collective prejudice, and by all religious, political, and
economic institutions of the society to which he belongs. And he will
be so impregnated with them himself that, whether or not he is jer:
sonally interested in their defence, he has become involuntarily, by a‘
his material, intellectual and moral habits their accomplice,
We must not wonder, therefore, at the all powerful it fluence over
the bulk of anankind, of these ideas which express the collective con-
science of society, but on the contrary we should rather wonder at the
fact that, in this mass, individuals are found who have the intelligence,
will and courage to combat them. For the pressure of society ou the
individual is iMMense and there is no character-nor intelligence which
would be strong and powerful enough to pretend to be entirely safe
from attacks of this equally despotical and irresistible influence.
Nothing proves the social character of men as this influence dovs.
We might say that the collective couscience of a society, incarnated
as well in the great puble institutions as in all the details of its
private life, and being the basis of all its theories, forms a hind of
milieu, of an intellectual and moral atmosphere, obstructing but ab-
solutely necessary to the existence of all ats members. By at they
are at the same tie dominated, penetrated, and sustained, being bound
together among themselves by customary rapports which are neces-
sarily determined by this collective conscience itself and which msure
to everybody security, and constitute for all, the supreme condition of
the existence of the nuagjerity, banality, common-place routine.
The large majority of men, not only of the people but also of the
privileged and educated classes (and the latter often ina Jarger degree
even than than the people) only feclat ease and peace in their minds
when, by their ideas and all ther acts, they narrowly, blindly follow
tradition and routine: * We must think and act like this, because our
fathers did so formerly and everybody around us thinks and acts im
the way. Why should we therefore do otherwise These
words express the philosophy, the conviction and the practice of ninety
of every hundred of mankind, taken at random in all
classes af society, And,as TP have already ol served, there hes the
vreatest obstacle to prowress and the qore rapid) emancpation of
Chive
act as
They end
» and inst).
Incorporated
Satie
mee out
humanity.
To de continued
The total meunt of bibour needed to provide for our wants will [we
Food. half au hour's labour daily ¢ clothing, fifteen minutes
houses, ete. dadf an hewur'’s fabour: that is (assamins
lid tetaloof 2) hour's labour daily world
ani ices Bei supply us iiabundanee with all the comforts of life. The
Are
as follows ;
labour daily
CVery mitt his stitre), it
progress of invention and the mereasine appleation of machiners
daily reducing even the amount of Tivbour, so that the part which tas
new myunly to be plaved hw man, is simply te superintend the machin-
ery Which dieew the work =- Willian Hoyle
Arevsr, [8N4.
TT
eae
THE BALANCE OF POWER.
> e<
It is scarcely necessary to disclaim a too close svuipa-
thy with that startlng phenomenon of civilization, the
homb-thrower; but we are blind indeed if we do not
observe and take into account the mmoamense revolntion
of ideas he is effecting in the administration of human
affairs We imay condemn and denounce him, as we do
without stint; he goes on heedlessly and unconcerned
—the increasing frequency of his acts shows how power-
less are established institutions to suppress him. He
has come, not only to slay, but to stay.
The pulpit and the press have heaped coals of fire
upon the heads of “ these miscreants.” ;
edastards has been heard on all sides. Indeed, this is
natural enougo. Their motives have been largely hidden
with the necessary secrecy of their operations. They
have determined, however, to refute this charge of
cowardice with becoming grace. One after another have
yielded up their hves, the most priceless of their posses-
sions, in order to add a proud digmity to thei devotion.
Indeed they have counted their very executions as so
much propaganda,” and religiously refused to take the
smallest advantage occasion has offered to clear them-
selves of guilt. hey have believed themselves to be
the avengers of wrong, and have died with a serenity as
sublime as that which actuated the early Christians.
The bomb-thrower 1s essentially a brave ian, a man
of quick sympathies, and vigorous in action. He is the
agent of a new terror mainly on account of the moral
justification that stimulates him. We are all of us con-
vinced, in our innmerinost hearts, that Society is respon-
sible tor his actual existence. He points with supreme
scorn, as well he may, to a civilization which, im order
to mamtam itself, is ooliged to have recourse to modern
nalitarism, Sut still, two wrongs do not make one
right: let us therefore cease to justify either, and Gon-
demn without partiality. Tt may be difficult to do so,
Inasmuch as the bomb-thrower invariably brings panic
with his new tmanifestation of covertiment. which clouds
our moral vision, but at mast be done. We readity
enough perceive the evil of his act, but entirely overlook
its unconscious nanistry for good.
[tis idle to suppose that the execution of the bomb-
thrower will change the Course of events. Tle may ‘ halt
for breathing space” and to reconnoitre the situation,
and when Society toudly supposes hinn to be utterly dis-
mayed, and relaxes its rigor a consequence, he will
thunder forth agai, and i the most unexpected place.
The more he is executed, the wider the breach opens ;
and finally, a form of ‘ possession” seizes him which
maddens him to strike, more terrible often, beeanse vam,
lessly, and without discretion. ‘Phe act of mate Henry
Was a Consequence of the police repression which. re-
sulted from: the act of Auguste Vaillant.
Gunpowder changed the old methods of war, and
shitted the balance of power. Serence has reduced to
Impotence the mere supremacy of numbers. ‘The more
Inodern concentrated explosives have supplanted the rifle
and the sword. Phe very destructiveness of our modern
wartare tends to deter statesmen from gomgto war. Tt
would be impossible to anticipate the outcome of a con-
test between two great powers, if all the latest appliances
of chemistry and mechanics were put into play. ‘Thus
every advance made in the manufacture of weapons of
destruction has brought increased respect, in the long
rin, to those who have become possessed of such sources
ofstreneth. The individual Nihilist is more feared by the
Cvar than a whole army of serfs. The result is that the
lomblest eitizen merits at least some consideration, and
there ds cultivated a dispositions to rermove those crush
Hie btirdens from the sdroutders of thre people, Where
despa is fast gouding them oon to tasurreetion.
The oly thine thet naiuihiid yey liad, ‘ay probably
The ery of |
LIBe ey. 59
ever will, worship, is pov. Even the devotees of God
have always mi omuand the attribute of ommipotence,
Majority-rule has uo better moral apology than its power
to execute its will. And so, when Scrence shall pro-
vide individuals with still more potent, still more terri-
ble engines of destruction, it may come to pass that we
shall pay some respect, if imdeed, we do not lift our hats,
to the bomb-thrower,
The century will not pass, in my opinion, withont
realizing man’s long dream of traversing the air. Crookes
has told of the potential energy of ether. Keely chums
to have discovered the key to this energy, and to have
surpassed all previous conceptions of a@rouautics. In his
suspension of gravity, or meantpulation and utilization of
the polar flow, he has approached the realization of
Lytton’s suggestion of enfin the Comings Race," in
being able to draw unlimited energy from the atmosphere
and put it to mechanical use without storage. Dewar
doubts not that Keely may lift thousands of tons in the
ar. This new application of mechanical physics, this
wider Comprehension of correlative forces, is destined to
supply a single individual with a greater grip of power
than Jove ever wielded, when of old, he hurled down
amongst men the thunderbolts of heaven,
Yes, this new balance of power is destined to achieve
mighty results, before which established tyranny will
pale. But all the devastation wrousht by the new
agencies will be as naught compared with the horrors
inflicted upon the people by statesmen in the past.
“Man dres't ina little brief authority” will no longer
subdue his weaker fellow, and enslave and degrade him,
when itis found to be so dangerous to do so. Aneraot
fellowship will dawn at last. [t 1s the monopoly of force
Which to-day engenders the social antagonisins. When
there comes a tnore equal diffusion of power, the neces-
sity of employing power will no longer exist, and Anarchy
will be realized at last.
Hiknry SkYMOUR.
INTERNATIONAL NOTES
= rod -
Comrade Meunier has been seutenced to penal servitude for life.
He was absolutely a stranger to the facts of which he was accused.
The Freneh pole, unable to discover the authors of the explosions at
the restaurant Very and the Lobau barracks, charged all Anarchists
which fell into their hands with these facts, und finally fixed these
charges on Meunier, because a wourun, with whom Meunier bad quar-
relled, told absurd stories about him. Notwithstanding that Meunier
was able to prove, by six witnesses, an alibi, a jury was found in
France to find hin guilty !
We are oppossed to all acts of blind (indisoriminate) violence ; but
it seems to us that the bourgeots, in condemning as they do, with or
without proofs, every Anarehist, are the direct provocators of and
principe: tly respousible for vets like the attempts in the Liceo theatre
and the Cate Terminus.
We send to Meumer the expression of our sympathy. He has
alwavs been a decided upholder of the workers’ cause, which is the
cause of justice, freedom and bappimess for all. ‘Phe chairman of the
assizes reproached dam with continually arguing ou his fellow-workers
to resist the oppression of the masters. For this the bourgeois hated
hom and the workers loved him and repyret his absence.
We hope tosee Meumer back among aus. The bourgeois condemned
him to perpetual lmiprisonment. But how long is the" perpetuality i
of the capitalist organization gory to last +
The latest aformation we have of our Comrade Meunier (Keuter’s
Agency) is that he bas tefased to sign an appeal, all whe kaew hom
expected nothing fnooprivate hte be penth:, and 4s
sympathetic as a won, butin propaganda, consistent and courageous,
lens Wits
Mancwesten ANARCHIST Draw. ‘bhe winning numbers are 314,
295), 284, 506, 359, 775, S21, 209, 724, 22, 526, 393. This draw
was started in order to meet the heavy expenses meurred in the
valiant fierlt ter Free Speech waged hy our comrades last winter.
ft dias been vers sdecesstal, though still leaviny them iat vpood deal
debt
bh
60) Ley Be
ig - 7 —— : = — = Se
HAVis YOU NOT HEARD HOW IT HAS GONE WITH MANY A CAUSE BEFORE NOW;
FIKST, FEW MEN HEED IT; NEXT, MOST MEN CONTEMN IT; LASTLY, ALL
SEN ACCEPT IT—AND THE CAUSE IS WON!
‘LIBERTY " js a journal of Anarchist-Communism; but articles on all phases of the Revolu
tlonary movement will be freely adinitted, provided they are worded in suitable language, No
contributions should exceed one column jin length. The writer over whose signature the article
appears is alone responsible for the opinions expressed, and the Editer in all matters reserves to
himself the fullest right to reject any article.
We would ask our contributors, to write plainly and on one side of the paper only.
All Communications shonld be addressed, — The Editor, Liberty, 7 Beadon Road, Hanmer
smith, W.
Subscription, 1s. 6d. per year, post free
supplied by W. Reeves, 185, Fleet Street, H.C.
Per quire of 27 copies, ts. 7d. post free. The trade
To Correspondents.
C. Srravanan and Wiyntk Fosrer. — Received 28. 6d. Justin time for
Meunier Defence Fund; thanks for postal order for paper and
pamphlets.
T. H. Bent, Edinburgh.— Pamphlets sent as requested.
A. Despres, Liverpool.— Pamphlets, cte., forwarded ; will send other
papers. We are glad to find Liverpool Liberty Group so healthy.
LIBERTY,
LONDON, AUGUST, 1894.
Between Ourselves.
—— 9 —e
As we go to press our Comrades Cantwell and Quinn have been
sentenced to six months’ hard labor, couvieted on evidence which even
the Daily Chronicle vdimits to be of the flimeiest Kind. Al) Socialists
were excluded ; every one wishing te enter the court beme subjected
to a close serutiny, and refused admission at the diseretion of the
police.
They were remanded no less than five times and the charge was
converted more than once
duct, then it was incitement to murder the Royal Faniuly. inally our
comrades were committed on four charges: 1, imettement to murder;
2, seditious Iibel (a new charge, by the was); 38) the publieation of
the leaflet “Why Vaillant threw othe bomb?" (whieh charge was a
deliberate invention); and finally, a charge under the Explosives Act
onthe ground of amanuseript found at Sidmouth Mews, bemy a recipe
for the composition of explosives.
At. first it was a charge of disorderly con-
At this juncture of the case an attempt was made onthe part of the
prosecution to gmpleate the whole of the Commonuvral (rroup, by
committing Quin ou the same charge, Mr. Parrelly however, very ably
combated this point, porting ont that from the fet of Quinn ‘being
a member of the Group. it by no means followed that he had any
knowledge of the existence of the uuinuseript in cuestion
therefore not committed ander the Jexplosives Act but was finally com.
mitted on the other three charees.
Quinn wis
We may safely conclude that this case das arisen out of existine
prejudices and in COTE COTETTO® of pres vious events The Poster shown
on Tower Hill contaimed vothine more seditious thitn may be read
week hy week in, wiv, fe ynolds for dastanee > hut whea similar or
identical expressions are used by men known to profess Anarchist
opinions a different imipressron is conveyed. This was well stated ani
exemplified by the prosecutiug counsel while Wolliaaim= Morris was in
When about to state the
which constitute the allecwed roerteonrent the cotttisel interciptedd with
the withess boy. Mean ob thee fore dies
“Tt does uot matter what the writer diplies, the question is what the
prisouers rmply [uo the same way deteetives were allowed te spoith
of previous specehes tide by the prisoners, While the defenmee wes ret
permitted torntrodece any eviderer respecting: there previous speeches
Strange are the wavs of "law Jeu Give receives a. setitetiee af
two vears fora couple of dines contiimed ia beak of soo pisces, thy
contention berg that those dies eprromase the meanimie of the loch
The precisely opposite contettrone 1s alleged to owercrule an tle preset
ie ys ay
Ne tT I
BE, PNG
a O
ease, Where four lines are beld to mean something ofhker than the
from which they are taken means asa whole. Law's CONSISteney
to be found im one pommt funk at the Anarchist Idea. hy okt
present charge consists, first and last, in prosecution of the Idea va
poet
The most suspicious feature of this case is th:
$ that
the prosecut |
‘ Uting
counsel has said week after week : &
has “! We have not yet formulated ouy
charge. Suddenly, then, this manuscript concerning explosivey ;
brought forward, ‘The thing is suggestive. eos
Comrade Kropotkin contributes a very able article on « Mutual Aid
in the Medieval City,” the first of (wo papers, to the Nineteenth Ci nt
The mediaeval city, he pomts out, was not simply a political amon,
sation for the protection of certain political liberties ; it was an atten 4
at organising, on a much grander scale than in a village community
close ution for mutual aid and support, for consumption and ptvnihagh.
ion, and tor social life altogether, without imposimg upon men the fer
ters of the State, but giving full liberty of expression to the
genius of each separate group of individuals in art, crafts,
commerce, and political organisation.”
ty
tet.
CTealive:
SCIENCE,
Au Kngtish translation, by Ralph Derechef, of Felix Dubois’ book
“The Anarchist Peril” is published by Fisher Unwin, Latin,
This is the book of a journalist, and moreover, of a journalist of the
Figaro; that means to say, it contains all that is necessary to vet at
sale among the curious, but nothing showmg any sincere desire for
discovering the truth aud making it known to the public. Drawings
reproduced from the Pere Petnward, sensational phrases, picked out at
hazard fromthe Anarchist press, anda little chronology of the exterior
dramatic incidents of the French Anarebist movement, form the main
part ot the book, Phere is no understanding found of the Anarchist
ideas, their origin, evolution, and outcome.
nye
To judge the book and its author it is sufficient to read what he
says about Bakunin. ‘This unportant personality, who will have had
on the events of this century a much larger influence than we yet
Imagine, and who left in the spirit of those who knew him such a pro-
fouad impression and deep affection, isto M. Dubois, a suspect person,
perhaps a spy!
M. Dub ns only knows, aud in an entirely superficial way, the Anareh-
isin Parts of the Jast few vears. He derives these manifestations
of Auarehism whieh are all he is aware of, directly from Bakunin,
whilst to the trends of Bakunin they appear rather to be the nepa-
tion of the Bakunist tradition.
Bakunin meets with an equal want of proper understanding at the
hands of Mr. Morrison Davidson, who, in the Westininster Gazette of
July 12th, and the Weekly Times of July 28th, puts himself forward
as a sort of historian of the Anarchist theories.
Referring to his statements im the former article we cau shortly reply
(contradicting his assertions) that Bakunin (who died in £876, vot im
1878) hid not write the lines quoted from a‘ Kevolutionary Catech-
ism’ which was vof read at the trial of Nevehageff, which trial did aot
take place in L387) (but early in 1873).
The facts about this Revolutionary Catechism’? are briefly these :
at the trial of a number of students, ete, with whom Netehajeff,
when in Russia, had associated, the document referred to was read
from a copy tm cypher; uo proof was ever brought forward. that Bua-
kunin was the author of it}; whilst ait) suited the purposes of unfair
polenies congenial to Karl Marx to aseribe this and some other
pubheations to Bakunin, it with the greatest amount of
probability, os well from internal evidence as from the oral testimony
of men who have known aft the time both Bakunin and Netehajetf,
that the latter was the author of ait, and documentary proof could be
brought forward to show how strongly Bakunin disagreed with seme
of Netehayef?s chief ideas. Moreover, in a letter addressed to the
Journal de Geneve (published on Sept. 25th, 1873) Bakunin, referring
“You attribute to me writings with the
And, finally, there
Bakunin,
results
to these pubheations, sara:
publication of which T have uothimg to do.”
exist in mmanusenpt, two “Revolutionary Catechisms "by
none of whieh has a line in common with that from wiieh Mr. Mor-
risou Davidson, repeating the oll Marxist slanders, quotes.
To show further, how Jistory is written by Mr. Morrison Davidsen,
heosays (Westuiuster Guaedte) that after “an abortive Anarchist
"at Lyons iu (S70 the declaration of the Lyous Anarchist per
: Now
Pistia
soners from whieh he quotes a long extract was read mn court
who of his readers will imagine, that this “rising took place on
Sept. 28th, E870 durmy the Franco-German War (Bakunin took
partinmait) whilst the decliration was rend at the trial ef the Lyons
TH conelivhes with the
all, haw:
and other Anarchists on Jan. 2srd, 2S8s !
words: © What scomtdrels are we 2 We
ledore for all, Wo and) for
want bread fou
Witt inctependence an
work fry a a
pasties.” (Et was publishe bits an Mielish Leathe at the fim tt
this may be one of the earhest Buglish Anareliest publications )
‘ ‘ Te ‘ay het
We think before establishing fanciful distinetions bet ween : Pte
os ; aaa i}
tian aed“! Materadost ° Nnarehosm and similiar nonsense, Mi 4h
. . esau TaN
misen Dievulsorm owebt to raferm himself on the vers out lites .
history of Anarchist theortes,
WRT RT,
Sevan, PME het
i RR
THE DUTIES OF THE PRESENT HOUR.
By ERRICO MALATESTA,
Reaction is let loose upon us from all sides. The
bourgeoisie, Infuriated by the fear of losing her privileges,
will use all moans of repression to suppress not only the
Anarchist and Socialist, but every progressive
ment.
It is quite certain that they will not be able to pre-
vent these outrages which served as the pretext of tlits
present reaction; on the contrary, the measures which
bar all other outlets to the active temper of some seer
expressly calculated to provoke and multiply them,
But, unfortunately, It is not quite certain that they
may not succeed in hampering our propaganda by
re nidering the circulation of our press very difficult, hy
inprisouing a great number of our comrades, and by
leaving no other means of revolutionary activity open to
us than secret meetings, which may be very useful for
-the actual execution of actions determined on, but which
cannot make an idea enter into the mass of the pro-
leturiate.
We would be wrong to console ourselves with the
old illusion that persecutions are aldimays useful to the
development of the ideas which are persecuted. ‘This
is wrong, as almost all generalisations are Persecutions
may help or hinder the triataph of a cause, according to
the relation existing between the power of persecution
and the power of resistance of the persecuted , and past
history contains examples of persecutions which stopped
and destroyed a movement as well as of others which
brought about a revolution.
Hence we must face, without weakness or allusion,
the situation mto which the dbowrgeotste has placed us
to-day and study the means to resist the storm aud to
derive from it the greatest possible profit: for our catise.
There are comrades who expect the triumph of our
ideas from the multipheation of acts of individual vio-
lence. Well, we may differ in our opimions on the moral
value and the practical effect of individual aets om
general, and of each act im particular, and there are im
fact on this subject among Anarchists various divergent
and even directly Opposed currents of opinion; but one
thing is certam, namely, that with a number of bombs
and a number of blows of the knife, a society like bour-
geors society cannot be overthrown, beme based, as it
Is, OM ah eHOrimous Hiss Of private mterests and preyu-
dices, and sustamed, more than itis by the force of arms,
by the inertia of the masses and them habits of submis-
SION.
Other things are necessary to bring bout a revolution,
and specnuly the Anarchist revolution. Pt is necessary
that the people be conscious of them riehts and ther
strength ; it is necessary that they be ready to fleht and
realy to take the conduct of their affairs into their own
hands. Itanust be the coustant preoccupation of the
revolutionists, the port towards which all thei activity
must aim, to hiring about this state of mind amone the
IMaSSeS. ‘Tie brilliant acts of a few midividtals may help
in this work, but cannot replace ity anda im es they
are only useful aif they are the result of
movement of sprit of the masses and HeCOML
plished under such cireumistinces that the misses un-
derstand them, svmpathise with, and profit
Woe to us, Woe to our cause if we
ity, Walting from: time
Vaillant
the cnuse and be admired for ther
pects the emancipation of manmktid to come,
the persistent and diarmonious co-operation of all men
from the accidental or providencuel hag
not better
Witerveditiow of ay
MOVE =
ic ollec tive
sda
hy then,
reniaih dy daeetay-
to time for men Lhe Caserio and
\\ bio em
rat
bravery ;
fronts
of prowress, but
Perini of
than Ohne
sore aets of breroisai. is “advised
Who expects it from the
PHA UEROUES levishator or aft a Vietorous veneral,
Pallas and Berkinatn to saeritice their dives for
ney. 61
Ee ne eae LER en TR ee ee ee
After all, aa any bat oa very Hmited aumber of
Individuals do really c mmmuat aets of this hind. And the
others? What are we dome. we, the grent majority of
Amochists, who throw no bombs and kill no tyrants ?
Must we content ourselves with praising the dead and
wit with equanimity of conscience for others to come
forward to get killed? Et is Hnportant that we should
avree as to the line of conduet fitted for the bnolk of
Anarchists: which would not prevent individuals of ex-
ceptional energy and devouion bringing to the stragete
their personal audac itv and saerifice.
What have we to doin the present situation ?
Betore all, omy opmion, wemust as muchas possible
resist the laws; Danight almost say we must ignore them,
Thedevree of freedom, as well as the degree of exploita-
tion adios whiel: we ee Is Hot at allyor only in aw small
measure, dependent upon the letter of the law: it depends
before all upon the resistance offered to the laws. One
can be relatively free, notwithstanding the existence of
dracoman Jaws, provided custom is opposed to the gov-
ernment making use of them; while, on the other side,
I spite of . eunmintees granted by laws, one may be at
the merey of all the violence of the police, if they feel,
that they can, without beige punished, make short work
of the liberty of the citizens,
In laly, the government used to dissolve, from time
to time, such assocnitions as they considered dangerous
to the monarchical tmstitutions. Protests, and cries of
indignation were raised and, what is most important,
the dissolved societies were forthwith reconstituted + and
the government could not but let this pass, and its aims
to suppress the meht of assomation of its opponents
were contintuudly frustrated, After having several
times used this method agunust the Tnternatronal Work-
Ingmenms Association (which, im Italy, was from the be-
einning Anarchist) and not succeeding im making it
discppear, the government dat upon prosecuting 1ts
members as persons aflilinted to an association of crimi-
mus. But th was luipossigie to prosecute all, From
tithe to time arrests were made, sentences passed ; the
accused openly vindicated ther ideas and the right to as-
soclate for them propagation ; the sections of the [nter-
ational continued them work, and im the end, whilst a
mianber of individuals suffered) personally and those
Who feht agemst the existing ocder of things must ex-
pect to suffer the aims of the government were frus-
trated and the propaganda profited by it ever so much,
But then Anarchists began to say that to form associa-
tions meant giving an opportumity for prosecution of
associations of criminals to the government; they caus-
ed the dissolution of the existing association, combated
all efforts to reorganise it and, in this way, volan-
CEE.
tarily renounced the right of association. Phis did
not, of course, prevent a smele condemnation; on the
CONTTALY, Anarchists are aceused of forming
criminal associations if perchance they meet each sabhicer
iat cafe—they may even not know one another — simply
becutse they are Anarchists.
The
wealnst ous
at present
resuits of
will
ourowhattitude,
the new tows which are beige forged
depend to a large degree, upon
It weotferenergetic resistance, they wall
at once appear to puble opimuon as a shameless viola-
tiomof all tain meht and will be condenmed to spocdy
extinetion orto remain a dead letter,
we accommodate ourselves to them, they will rank wath
contemporary political customs, which will, later on,
have the disastrous result of giv ne fresh importance to
the
breech aes,
If, on the concrary,
strogele for political liberties (of speaking, writing,
the cause
sighit of the social question,
combining, ane associating) and be
nore or less of lostiag
Weare to be
Jet us
They Walt ta proser. be the
aloud
prevented frotn expressing our ideas :
thrat
bitte of
less anid
Vt Py
that we aire ANwarehogsts
hoo se qrotie bie more thi ever,
Anarchist : let
ns shout The nicht ot
62 LIB
74 utstT, 1894,
—_—_—_——— OE
association as to be denied us: let us associate as we Can,
and prochum that we are associated, and mean to be.
This hind of action, Pam quite aware, is hot without
difficulty i the state things are in at present, and can
only be pursued within the limits and inthe way which
commonsense will dictate to everybody according to the
different cueumstances they tive under. But det us
always remember that the oppression of governments
has no other limits than the resistance offered to it.
Those Socialists who imagine to escape the reaction
by severing their cause from that of the Anarchists, not
only give proof of a narrowness of view which Is ico
patible with aims of radical reorganisation of the social
system, but they betray stupidly their proper interest.
If we should be crushed, their turn would come very
SOON.
But before all we must go among the people: this is
the way of salvation for our cause.
Whilst our ideas oblige us to put all our hopes im the
masses, because we do not believe in the possibility of
imposing the good by force and we do not want to be com-
manded, we have despised and neglected all manitesta-
tions of popular life ; we contented ourselves with simply
preaching abstract theones or with acts of imdividual
revolt, and we have become isolated. Hence the want
of success of what J will call, the first period of the
Anarchist movement.
propaganda and struggle, after so much devotion and so
many muartyrs, we are to-day nearly strangers to the
great popular commotions which agitate Europe and
America, and we find ourselves ina situation which per-
nits the governments to foster, without plamly appear.
ing absurd, hopes to suppress us by some police
Measure.
Let us reconsider our position.
To-day, that which always ought to have been our
duty, which was the logical outcome of our ideas, the
condition which our conception of the revolution and
reorganization of society imposes on us, namely, to live
among the people and to win them over to our ideas by
actively taking part im their strageles and suffermes, to-
day this has become an absolute necessity imposed up-
on us by the sieuation whieh we have to live under.
Our ordinary means of propaganda the press, meetinyes,
groups of more or less convinced adherents of our ideas
-at any rate fora certam: time, will becote tore and
more difheult to be used. Tt as only in working-men’s
associations, strikes, collective revolts where we can find
a waste held for exercising our miflience wid propagating
our ideas. Butaif we want to succeed, let as remember
that people do not become Anarchists ia single day, by
hearme some violent speeches, and let us above all avoid
falling into the error common to many comrades, who
retuse to associite with working men who are not already
perfect Anarchists, whilst it is absolutely necessary to
associate with them ia order to make them become
Aniarehists.
The Movement in Manchester.
To the Mditor of Laherty
A deliberate attempt made here in’ Manchester by the
“Wroateh-Commiuttee of the Mauchester Corporation fo suppress the
“oght of Puble Meeting? "Phey have given instructions to the Chief
Constable to suppress anyaimeetings held dy Anarchists, and acting up.
Yas been
on toistructions recerved, Chief Deteetive: Cunninada suppressed ile
usual meeting held an Stevenson Sq. oon Snoday afternoou, July sth
The reason according to the Press (and we have none from auy other
source) beme that the Anarchists have spoken approvingls ‘af the
assitsstnation of President Carnot. ‘The truth or falsehood of the above
Heeusttien seems tous te be beside the mark. the question at issue is,
ought the suppression of any public meetings te be allowed om aecotnt
of whrtone or two of the speakers tis dave sant? Tb any one is
wutty of an attewad et fet that person. be prosecuted, but do not let us
Wie
Poremain,
Manehester AC G
allow such oa dhincereus precedent as this te pass without protest
appeal to all
Youts traternally ,
lovers of whoet ps recht fer there assistutree
Apraet Ss Hous. Ses
After more than twenty years of
|
PROUDHON AND COMMUNISM.
The so-called Proudhontains like to tellus that in preaching Tudivid
ualisiy and private appropriation they follow his teachings. This
is What Proucdhon wrote in his last work on Property, the “Moors
published in 1866, after his death. After having
developed in that work the ideas that, with the present z
of Property,”
; 5 development
of State, private property is the only means of defending
liberty against the State,—he wrote the following char
conclusion to his work (pp. 244-246).
imin's
acteristic
| mu
0 private property he
personally preferred Slavonte or Communal possession of land.
I have unfolded the considerations which render
the idea of private property intelligible, rational, justifi-
able, without which it would be usurpatory and hateful,
And yet, even on those terms, it Contains somethiny of
that selfishness which is always antipathetic to me, M
levelling reason, always against being governed, and an
enemy to the rage and abuses of power, 18 prepared to
allow proprietorship to be kept up asa shield and posi-
tion of safety for the weak: but my heart will never
be with at. As far as I am concerned, 1 feel no
necessity for this concession either for the purpose of
gaining my own bread, or to fulfil my civie duties, or tor
my own happiness. | have no need to meet it with
others that To may aid their weakness and respect. their
rights. J have sufficient energy of conscience and intel-
Jectual force to suitably maimtain all my relations with
my neighbours, without it, and if the majority of my
fellow citizens resemnbled me—-what need would there
be of that institution 2? Where would be the danger of
tyranny 2 Where the danger of ruin by competition
and free trade? Where would be the danger for the
little man, the pupil, or the workman? Where would he
the need of pride, ambition, ana greed which cannot
satisfy itself except by the numensity of appropration ?
A small house, held on hire, the use of a garden would
he amply suffient for mes my occupation not being to
cultivate the soil, the vine, ora meadow, F do not, require
a park or a large inheritance, and oven if TE were a
husbandman and vine-dresser, Slavome forme of posses-
sion would satisfy me, rez, the share falling to each head
of a family in each commune — f cannot tolerate the
Insolence of the man who with his foot on land which he
merely holds by a free concession, forbids us to pass
over it, and prevents our gathering a flower in his field
or to walk over a foot path.
When TL sec all these fences in the suburbs of Paris
which take away a view of the country and the enjoy-
ment of the soi from the poor pedestrian, mry blood
fairly boils. bask myself whether such proprietorship
which thus ties up each person within his own house is
not rather expropriation and expulsion from the land.
Private Property! J sometimes meet with these words
written in darge letters at the entrance to an open
road and which resembles a sentinel forbidding you to
advance any farther, T confess, my manly dignity fairly
bristles up in disgust. Oh?! E remain with regard to
this on the standpoint of Christian religion, which recom-
mends abnegation, preaches modesty, simplicity of mind,
and poverty of heart. Away with the ancient patrician,
nnmerciful and covetous ; away with the msolent baron,
the wreedy bourgeois, and the harsh peasant, drus
arator. ‘These people are odious to me! TP can neither
like them nor look at them. Tf [ should ever find my-
self a proprietor PE should be one of that kind whom (rod
and men, especially the poor forgive !
Native-born Persons in {,OOO Inhabitants.
Coanited Kangdom Ot Belorum PUR
Crerimany 7.4 France lad
. ; ey)
ltals On) Switzerland pea
Helland ORR Uinted States Sob
” as We .
ft ois manifest that our poy dation os essentiadls ear gwn, Frame
Varlhell, Ise?
heya 6 times as tay foreigu settlers
LSO-4.
ACGUBT,
Li Bis Ty
THE VOICE OF TOIL.
By WILLIAM MORRIS
I heard men saying, Leave hope and praying
All days shall be as all have been ;
To-day t and to-morrow bri ing fear and sorrow
The never-ending toil between.
When Earth was younger mid toil and hunger,
In hope we strove, and our hands were strony ;
Then great men led us, with words they fed us,
Aud bade us right the earthly wroug.
Go-read in story their deeds and glory,
Their names amidst the nameless dead ;
Turn then from lying to us slow-dying
In that good world to which they ie
Where fast and faster our iron master,
The thing we made, for ever drives,
Bids us grind treasure and fashion pleasure
For other hopes and other lives.
Where home is a hovel and dull we grovel
Forgetting that the world is fair ;
Where no babe we cherish, lest its very soul perish,
Where our mirth is crime, our love a snare.
Who now shall lead us, what god shall heed us
As we lie in the hell our hands have won?
For us are no rulers but fools and befoolers,
The great are fallen, the wise men gone.
® ) a * « e
Theard men saying, Leave tears and praying
The sharp knife heedeth not the sheep ;
Are we not stronger than the rich and the wronger,
When day breaks over dreams and sleep?
Come, shoulder to shoulder cre the world grows older !
Help lies in nought but thee and me ;
Hope is before us, ‘the long years that bore us
Bore leaders more than men my be.
Tet dead hearts tarry and trade and marry,
And trembling nurse their dreams of mirth,
While we the living our lives are giving
To bring the bright new world to birth.
Come, shoulder to shoulder ere earth grows older!
The Cause spreads over land and sea
Now the world shaketh, and fear awaketh,
And joy at last for thee and me.
[The verse printed in iti alies above forms part of the charge upon
which our comrades T. Cantwell and ©. T. Quinn are committed for
trial for inciting Henry Braden and others to murder the royal
family !—Ep. }
MY UNCLE BENJAMIN.
ro<-
CHAPTER ITT.
After having recovered his breath and wiped his brow, for he was
sweating, my worthy great-uncle, with emotion and wrath, took my
grindfather aside, and said to him :
“Suppose we invite this brave man and this glorious poodle to break-
fast with us at Manette’s 2”
“Wurm! ham tl’? objected my grandfather.
“The devil 1? replied Benjamin,” meet every day a
poodde who has made an English captain prisoner, and every day poli
fieal banquets are given to people who are not worth this honorable
quadruped.”’
“But have you any money 7 am
thirty-sou piece, which your sister
Velieve, it is imperfectly coined, and “shee urgently
bring he oy back at Jeast half.’
“For my part, T have not a sou, but Tam Manette’s physician, just
as she from time to time is my tavernkeeper, and we give each other
ere dite”
“ Manctte’s physician only ?
“What's that to vou?”
‘Nothinu; but I warn you that To will not stay more than an hour
at Manette’s.””
Soomy unele extended his invitation to the The Jatter
arcepted without ceremony, and joyfully placed Himself between my
Unele and my grandfather, wi alkine in what soldiers call lock
Thev met a o which a pe ested was driving to pasture,
Undoubtedly by Benjamin's coat, he sudde nly starte ‘es o lim. = My
Unele dodged his horns, and, as he had seleared ata
bound, with No hore effort th: i it he had CURT FH cape PF, ek semi t diteh
that separated the road from the fields. ‘The bull, who was undoubt-
edly determined to make aslash in the red coat, tried to follow
Yacle's example; buat he fell into the metddle of the diteh.
enough for you?” said Benjamen, that's what vou get by seeking a
Quarrel with people who are net of But the
quadruped, as obstinate as a Russian mounting te an assault, was not
digeour, aged by this failure; planting his hoofs in the half-thawed
one does not
said my grandfather; “T have only a
wave ime this Morning because, I
recommended me to
”
sergeant.
-step
}
Offe ded
younts of steel,
niyv
5 (rood
=
dyeaming you.
|
ground, he tried to climb the slope. My uncle, seeing that, drew his
sword, and, while he was pricking the enemy's snout to the best of his
ability, he called the peasant, and erted | My good man, stop your
beast ; vlaw ft wan you that Twill pass my rear through his body.”
But as he said the words he let his sword fall mto the ditch. “ Take
off Your coat, and throw it to him as quickly as you can,’ cried Mache-
court, " Hide among the vines,” sud the peasant. “Sic him! sie
him! Foutenoy,” said the sergeant. ‘The poodle leaped at the bull,
and, as if he knew his enenry, bit him on the hanv-string. The animal
then turned his wrath against the dog ; but, while he was mi: tking
havoe with his horns, the peasant came up and sacceeded in passing a
noose around the bull's hind legs. This skilful manauvre was per-
fectly successful, and put an end to the hostilities.
Benjamin returned to the read. He thought that Machecourt was
going to laugh at him, but the latter was as pale as a sheet and trem.
bled on his legs.
“Come, Machecourt, brace up,” said my uncle; “ else T shall have to
bleed you. And you, my brave Fontenoy, you have mado to- day a
prettier fable than that of Ta Fontaine, entitled : ‘Tho Dove and the
Ant.” You see, gentlemen, a good decd is never lost. Generally the
benefactor is obliged to give long credit t> the bene ‘fictary, but he,
Fontenoy, bad paid me in advance. Who the devil would have thought
that [ would ever be under obligations to a poodle ?’
Monlot is hidden among a clump of willows and naglines on die left
bank of the Beuvron river, atthe foot of a big hill, up which runs tho
road to La Chapelle. A few houses of the village had already gone up
by the side of the road, as waite and as spick and span as peasant
women when they go into # place frequented by society ; ; among them
was Manette’s wine-shop. At sight of the frost-covere { sign that huug
from the attic window Benjamin began to sing with his stentorin
Voice :
“Amis, tl faut faire une piuse,
J’apercois Pombre dun bouchon.”
On hearing this familar voice, Manette ran blushing to the threshold
of her door.
Manette was really a very pretty person, plump, chubby, and white,
but pe chips a little too pink; her elodk« would have ry aminde 1] you of
a i50l of milk, on the surface of which a few drops of wine were float-
ing. ‘ Gentleman,” satd Benj umin, “ permit me first of all to kisa our
pretty hostess, a3 an appotizer for the good breakfast which she is go-
Inz to prepare for us directly.”
“Tudecd Monsieur Rathery !" exclaimed Manette, stirting back,
‘you are not made for peisant women ; go and kiss Mademois-lle
Minxit.”
“Tt seems,” thought my uncle, “that the report of my marriage has
alrevly spread through ths country. No one but M. Minxit can hive
spokenof it; hence he mast bs determine { to have mo for a son-in-law ;
so, if he shoul t not receive my visit to-day, that would not be a reason
for breaking off the negotiations.”
“ Manette,” he added, “ Mile. Minxit is not in question here; have
you any fish?”
“There are plenty of fish,”
poi Oe
‘Agun Task you, Manette,”
Be careful what you answer,
“Well,” said Manette, “ my husband has gone fishing, and he will
soon return.”
“Soon does not meet our e1ss, put on the gridiron as many slices
of ham as it will hold, and make usan omelette of all the eggs in your
hen-house.’
The breakfast was soon ready. While the omelette was leaping im
the fryine-pan, the ham was broiling. Now, the omelette was almost
as soon despatched as served. It takes ahen six months to lay twelve
eggs, a Woman a quarter of an hour to convert them into an omelette,
avnd three men five minutes to absorb the omelette. “ See,” said Ben-
jamin, * how much more rapid is decomposition than recom position ;
countries covered with a numerous population grow poorer every day .
Man isa greedy infaut who makes his nurse grow thin; the ox does
hot restore to the fields all the grass that he takes from it; the ashes
of the oak that we burn do not return as an oak to the forest; the
zephyr does not carry back to the rose bush the leaves of the bouquet,
that the young girl scatters around her; the candle that burus in front
of us does not fall back in waxen dew upon the earth ; rivers continu.
ally desporl contiments, and lose in the bosom of the sea the matter
Which they take from their banks; most of the mountains have no
verdure Jeft ther big bald eraninms; the Alps show us their
bare and jagged bones; the interior of Afmiea as nothing but a lake of
sumd; Spam is a vast moor, and Italy charnelhouse where
there remains only a bed of ashes. W herever yreat people have passed,
they have left ste rility in thei tracks. ‘Thas earth, adorned with ver-
dure and with flowers, is) a econ tive whose cheeks are red, buat
whose life is condemned. A time will come when it will be nothing
but anoinert, dead, dey mass, a great seputchral stone upon whieh God
‘Here lies the human race” Meantime, Jet us
by the blessings whieh the earth vives us, aud, as she is a toler-
let us drink to her long life?
to the jam My vrandfather from a sense of
eat to maint box bealth and aust have
Benjamin ate for amusement; but. the
for no other Purpose,
suid Minette, M. Minxit’s fish
in
sud Benjamin, “ have you any fish ?
Npon
wm opreat
will write : ventlemen,
protit
ably good mother,
then
Dad Hast
fu
aman whe sits down to table
They cute ate
duty,
blood in order
seryeant like
and he did not utter a word.
At table Benjamin wats
dren yet
Wm serve Writs
wie
fais; but his uoble stomach was not
64
exempt from jealousy, a base passion which dims the most brilhant
qualities,
LIBERTY.
He watched the sergeant with the vexed air of a man outdone, as |
Cesar would have watched, from the height. of the Capitol, Bonaparte
winning the battle of Marengo. After having contemplated his man
for some time in silence, he thought fit to address these words to
him :
“ Drinking and eating are two beings that resemble each other ; at
first sight you would take them for own cousins. But drinking is us
much wbove eating as the eagle who alights upon the mountain peak
is above the raven who perches on the tree-top. Eating is a necessity
of the stomach ; drinking is a neccessity of the soul. Eating is only
a common workman, while drinking is an artist. Drinking inspires
poets with pleasant ideas, philosophers with noble thoughts, musicians
with melodious strains ; eating gives them only indigestion. Now, I
flatter myself, sergeant, that I could drink quite as well as you; I even
think that I could drink better; but, when it comes to eating, I am the
merest nove b:side you You could cope with Arthus in person; I
even think that on a turkey you could go him one wing better.”
“ You see,” answered the sergeant, ‘I eat for yesterday, to-day, and
to-morrow.”
“Permit me then to serve you for the day after-to-morrow this las ,
slice cf hum.”
“ Thank you very much,” said the sergeant, “there is an end to
ee
“Well, the Creator who has made soldiers to pass suddenly from
extreme abundance to extreme want has given to them, as to the camel,
two stomachs ; their second stomach is their knapsack. Take this ham,
which neither Machecourt nor I want, and put it in your knapsack.”
“No,” said the soldier, ‘‘ I do not we i to lay up provisions; I
always get food enough ; permit me to offer this ham to Fontenoy ; we
are in the habit. of sharing everything together, on days of feast as on
days of fast.”
“You have there, indeed, a dog who deserves to be well taken care
of,” said my uncle ; “ will you sell him to me?”
“ Monsieur !”’ exclaimed the sergeant, quickly placing bis hand upon
his poodle.
“Pardon me, worthy man, pardon me; I am distressed at having
offended yuu; I spoke only in jest; I know very well that to propose
to a poor man to sell his dog is like proposing to a mother to sell her
child.”
“You will never make me believe,” said my grandfather, “ that one
can love a dog as much as a child; I, too, once had a poodle, a poodle
that was well worth yours, sergeant,—be it said without offence to
Fontenoy,—save that he has taken prisoner nothing but the tax-collee-
tor’s wig. Well, one day, when I had lawyer Page to dinner, he ran off
with # calf’s head, and that very night I passed him under the mill-
wheel.”’
“ What you say proves nothing ; you have a wife and six children ;
it is quite work enough for you to love all these people without form-
ing » romantic affection for a poodle; but I am talking of a poor devil
isolated among men and with no relative but his dog. Puta man with
a doy in a desert idland, in another desert island put a woman with her
ehild, and I will wager that in six month's time the man will love the
dog, provided the dog is amiable, as well as the woman will love her
ehild.”
“ 1 oan conceive,” answered my grandfather, “ that a traveller may
like a dog to keep him company, that an old woman that lives alone
in her room may like a pug with which to babble all day long. But
that a man should love a dog with real affection, that he should love
him as a Christian, that is what I deny, that is what I deem impos-
sible.”
“ And I tell you that under certain circumstances you would love
even a vail, the loving fibre in man canuot remain entirely in-
ert. ‘The human soul abbors a vocuum; observe attentively the most
hardened egoist, and at last you will find, like alittle flower among the
stones, an affection hidden under a fold of his soul.
“It is a general rule, to which there is no exception, that man must
love something. ‘The dragoon who has no mistress loves his horse ; the
young girl who has no lover loves her bird ; the prisoneF, Who cannot
in decency love his Jailor, loves the spider that spins his web on the
window of his cell, or the fly that comes down to him in a ray of sun-
light. When we find nothing animate to absorb out affections, we love
miterial objects,—a ring, a snuff-box, a tree, a flower; the Dutchman
feels a passion for his tulips, and the antiquary for his cameos.”
Just then Manette’s husband came in with a fat eel in his basket.
“ Machecourt,” said Benjamin, ‘it. is noon,—that is to say, dinner-
time ; suppose we make a dinner of this eel?"
“Jt is time to go,” said Machecourt, “and we shall dine at M. Min- |
xit’s.””
‘ And you, sergeant ? Suppose we eat the eel?”
“For my purt,” said the sergeant, “ I am in no hurry ; as ] am not
going anywhere in particular, I spend every night at home.”
“Very well said! And the respectable poodle, what is bis opinion
on this point ?”’
The poodle looked at Benjamin and wagyed his tail two or three
times.
“ Well, silence gives consent: so, Machecourt, there are three of us
against you; you must bow to the will of the majority. The majority,
you see, my friend, is stronger than the rest of the world. Put ten
philosophers on one side and eleven fools on the pad flee aak
will carry the day.”
ather
apr WE
' NORWICH
[Aucusr, 1894,
“The eel is indeed a very fine one,” said my grandfather. « and. if
Manette has a little bacon, it will make an excellent matelote But th
devil! what about my writ? That must be served.’”’ ; =
“Mark this,” said Benjamin ; ‘it will undoutedly be necessary fo
some one to lend me his arm to escort me back to Clamecy. If =
shirk this pious duty, I will no longer own you as my brother-in-law :
Now as Marchecourt was very anxious to continue as Be
brother-in-law, he semained.
pDJamin’s
To be continued.
Liberty Bookshelf.
i sr
The following can be obtained at the Office of « Liberty,” or will be
forwarded on receipt of stamps.
By Peter Kropotkin.
AN APPEAL TO THE YOUNG. Translated from
the French. Price 1d.
The most eloquent andi nob'e
stientifig log appeal tothe generous emotions ever penned by »
ANARCHIST-COMMUNISM. Its Basis and Principle,
86 pp. Price 1d.
“Rind falth takes flight! Make way for sclence; Gracious pl
disappear; Make room for Justice." Pee aS
Price 1d.
WAR. Reprinted from the ‘ Anarchist.”
lte many yearg
A very seasonable and instructive little work. Written for La Revu
ago, it still sheds a light on the insatiable war-hunger of the exploiting class,
ANARCHIST MORALITY. 386pp. Price 1d,
“Struggle t So that all may live this rich overflowing life; and be sure that In thig
struggle you will find a joy greater than anything else can give.”
THE PLACE OF ANARCHISM IN SOCIALISTIC
EVOLUTION. Price 1d.
“You must often have asked yourselves what Is the cause of Anarchism, and why
since there are already so many schools, it Js necessary to found an additional
one—that of Anarchism. In order to answer this question,” ete.
LAW AND AUTHORITY. Price 1d.
“The matin supports of crime are idleness, law, and authority; laws about
re laws about governinent, law about penalties and misdemeanors and
authority which takes upon itself to manutacture these laws and apply then |
24 pp.
MONOPOLY, OR HOW LABOR IS ROBBED.
By Wictiam Morris. Price 1d.
THE REWARD OF LABOR. A Dialogue. Id.
TRUE AND FALSE SOCIETY. By W. Morais. 14.
A TALK ABOUT ANARCHIST COMMUNISM
Between 'I'wo Workers. By Ewrico Matatesta. — Price Id.
This pamphlet has been translated into various languages, and is widely read In
Italy and France.
ANARCHY. By Eyrico Manatesta. Price 1d.
EVOLUTION anp REVOLUTION. By Exisee Recwvs.
ere
NOTICES OF PROPAGANDA.
Comrades would greatly assist by sending notices of meetings for {insertion under the above
heading, and turning up to sell‘ Liberty'' and the literature of the Cause. Special local
notices, ifsentin by the middle of the month, will be prominently displaved on the nun ver oF
Coples ordered. Will. comrades co-operate to make these notices as complete as possible
LONDON-—Hyde Park, 3.30; Regent’s Park, 11 ; Hoxton Church, 12;
Victoria Park. 12; Deptford Broadway, 11 and 7.
London comrades will assist by ordering “ Liberty "’ through newsagents.
ABERDEEN—Foot of Marischal Street, Sundays, 3 p.m. ; Castle
Street, 6.30 p.m.; Small Oddfellows’ Hall, Mondays, 8.
Agent—E. Shepherd, 6, South Constitution Street.
GLASGOW—The Green, Sundays, 1 and 6.30 p.m. Information
regarding group meetings can be had at 66, Brunswick Street.
Agent—J. Blair Smith, 66, Brunswick Street.
LEEDS —Sundays, Vicar’s Croft, 11 and 3; Woodhouse Moor, 7,
Padgett’s Temperance Hotel, Tuesday evenings.
Agent--John Murdock, 41, Bayswater Row, Roundhay Road.
LEICESTER— Sundays, Russell Square, 10.45 a.m.; Market Place,
6.15 p.m.; Humberstone Gate, 8 p.m.
Agent—A. Gorrie, 18, Princes Street.
N ,
MANCHESTER —Sundays, Stephenson’s Square, 3 ; New Cross, 8.
Agent--P. J. Kelly 9, West Dixon Screet, Salford,
Sundays, Market Place, 11, and 3.30.
Agent—A. 1. Moore, 24, Rose Yard, St. Augustine's, Norwich.
SWANSEA—lLiberty Hall, Sundays, 11.30 and 3, Wednesdays, ¢-
Coffee Tavern, Landore, 7.30.
S Mainwaring, 27, Morris Lane, St Thomas
30.
Agent